


Serpents and Shields

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dark SHIELD AU, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, POV First Person, POV Multiple, Post Avengers (2012)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:36:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a while since the Avengers were last together, but SHIELD is getting increasingly jumpy about the possibility of them getting back together again. The Avengers' existence is deemed to be too risky, and SHIELD starts taking measures against the team, framing them all as volatile and unstable, and a danger to the public. Clint and Natasha have had most of their SHIELD privileges taken away, resulting in termination once Clint discovers something in SHIELD's basements that SHIELD wants absolutely no one to know about. At least, not yet. The Avengers will find out the secret that SHIELD has been keeping from them, in time. The question is whether they'll survive it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_SHIELD Agent Clint Barton_

If a team’s formed out of necessity, it doesn’t stay together very long. You’d think a shared traumatic experience with aliens would be great for bonding or some shit, but it didn’t really turn out that way. The Avengers was a temporary thing, I guess. I’ll come back if they need me, but as of right now, we’ve all gone our separate ways. The only one who’s stuck around is Tash, but that’s because she and I still work for SHIELD. As far as I know, Tony, Bruce, and Pepper are having fancy science business time in New York, and Steve’s living there on his own. God knows where Thor’s gotten off to. So it’s just Natasha and I at SHIELD now, like it always was. It’s nice to do something that doesn’t involve aliens, for once.

We didn’t exactly get a warm reception when we came back to SHIELD, though. According to Fury, the Council got a little jumpy once we Avengers were around, and they’re not happy that Natasha and I have so much clearance in SHIELD. They were always kind of skittish about Natasha, because of the whole Soviet thing, but my presence usually didn’t bother them too much before now. I can see why the Loki thing would freak them out - hell, it freaked me out, too. Which is an understatement. But he’s gone now, and I’m not one of his goddamn lackeys. I don’t have anything against SHIELD. All I want is for them to treat Natasha and I less like threats, and more like actual SHIELD agents. Since, you know, we’re pretty damn important around here these days.

I’ve got a lot of free time now, since SHIELD is so reluctant to send the two of us on missions. So I think about this a lot. Natasha and I have both been trying to get more missions to go on (especially since our SHIELD paycheck is pretty shitty these days), and Fury’s been able to wrangle some for us, but it’s all mundane stuff and really easy. None of what we used to do, really. I’m glad that Fury seems to be on our side, but he’s the only one who is, and the Council’s giving him crap for it.  

Basically, the summary of all this is that I really hate being bored. If I have too much time alone to think, it doesn’t end well. There’s certain things I really can’t think about, like Loki, and everyone I hurt while he controlled me - _fuck_. I still don’t know how many people I killed, since Natasha won’t let me look up the data, but I have a pretty good idea. I’ve dealt with some things that are pretty not okay, but this is even worse than pretty not okay. All I can think about is how that it could happen again, and I’ll have even more blood on my hands, and how I won’t even be a person anymore, I’ll just be a tool --

“Clint.” Natasha’s voice brings me back, and I try to shove all remaining thoughts of Loki out of my head. I don’t remember much of what I did, so having those events left to my imagination makes things even worse. My hands are shaking, and there’s way too much adrenaline in my system right now. I make myself look at Natasha, trying to ground myself. She’s seen this before, and she’s good at bringing me back from it. If she’s worried, I can’t tell, because her face is as stoic as ever.

“Sorry. Thinking too much again.” Speaking out loud helps clear my head, too, and I try desperately to focus on something else - anything else. “We really need to go on a mission. Sitting around all day is driving me crazy.”

“Fury said he’ll try to have another one for us soon, but he can’t guarantee anything. SHIELD hasn’t really been communicating with him well, and he’s getting the feeling they want him ousted, too.” Natasha looks about 100% done with everything, and I feel the same way. It almost makes me want to go rogue again, just to be done with this place. But if I did, I’m sure they’d be after me, and I don’t want to think about what SHIELD would do if they had me as a prisoner.

When that thought crosses my mind, I realize I don’t actually know where SHIELD keeps most of their prisoners these days. I bring in targets, sure, but they’re usually taken off my hands once I’m in the building. No one ever talks about the prisoners that much, at least to me. It makes me wonder how many people are down there, exactly.

“They’ve reduced my clearance level, too,” Natasha continues, breaking me away from my reverie. “I used to be allowed in most of the rooms here, but my card doesn’t work in half the doors anymore. And I’m pretty sure that’s not an accident. I checked, and my card’s not broken or anything. Have they done that to your card, too? I don’t know whether they’re just having their periodic Soviet paranoia, or whether it’s Avengers-related.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really checked.” Natasha tends to lurk places and walk around in hallways at night when she gets bored, and that’s not really a habit of mine. Night is for sleeping. So I haven’t really tried to get into too many rooms other than my own quarters.

“You should. And let me know what happens,” Natasha says, and I raise an eyebrow.

“You want me to purposely try to get into SHIELD rooms I’m probably not allowed in?”

“Well, you said you were bored.”

 

Thanks to that conversation, this particular night is not for sleeping. I’m technically allowed to be down here in these hallways, since I’m a SHIELD employee, and a well-respected one at that (well, at least before all this shit happened). I’ve had luck with my card so far, and I’ve gotten into every room and hallway that I’ve tried. Maybe they’re just being paranoid about Natasha again, because they’ve done that more than once. I’m down in the basement now, an area that I hardly ever go to. Part of what’s drawn me here is curiosity about the prisoners, since part of me wants to know where they’re hidden, and how many people SHIELD really has locked up down here.

I’m expecting high-security cells, like what they held Loki in, or at least bars or something, like a normal jail. What I find is more along the lines of cages. They’re still pretty damn high-security, but they don’t look like a normal jail. And there are definitely people in there. Most of them are sleeping, but some of them are awake, and I’m suddenly wary, hoping that they don’t make a disturbance. I know the security cameras are catching me, but right now, I’m just an observer. If some of them make noise, SHIELD will be convinced that I provoked them.

One of them is definitely awake, and she catches my eye. There’s something in the coldness of her stare that reminds me of Natasha, and I feel more than a little unnerved. She doesn’t say anything and just watches me, looking almost confused. I can’t help but speak, even though it’s a terrible idea. I know these people are down here because they’ve done horrible things, but then again, so have I. I might even have ended up down here, if it weren’t for Tash.

“What’s your name?” I find myself saying, and my voice sounds entirely too loud compared to the near silence in the basement. The woman looks confused, as if I’ve asked her a question she doesn’t know the answer to. She doesn’t look like she’s going to try and attack me, so I wait, and she finally answers.

“Isidora Volkova. I’ve never seen you down here.” The woman sounds wary, and I realize that I’m still in my SHIELD uniform, so of course she’d be wary. Before I have the chance to answer, though, I’m suddenly grabbed by the arms.

“Agent Barton, you’re not allowed down here. This is a high-security area,” one of the security guards grunts, and although it’s in my instinct to struggle, I go along with them so as not to make things worse for myself and Natasha. I catch Isidora’s eye as the security guards escort me out, and I can’t read her expression. I wonder why she’s down here, and what SHIELD have done to her. I don’t have too much time, though, because the security guards lead me up to someone’s office instead. It’s not Fury, so I know I’m in trouble. This isn’t going to be fun.

I don’t catch the woman’s name, but she’s apparently in charge of all the prisoners. I don’t know how high up she is, rank-wise, but she has enough power to take away most of my clearances, which she does. I’m sent back to my quarters, where Natasha’s still waiting.

“So? What happened?”

“Well, my card definitely doesn’t work anymore. But I’m not sure if this is just an Avengers thing.”

 

The next morning, Natasha and I are terminated from SHIELD. We were given the ultimatum of either cutting all ties with the Avengers or being kicked out of SHIELD, and we chose the latter. Fury didn’t have any say in it, and I realize that I haven’t actually seen him all that much recently. I think Natasha and I are on a watch list now with the rest of the Avengers, if we weren’t already before. Natasha’s still really angry about this, and I’m working out how I feel about it. On one hand, I’m just as pissed at SHIELD as she is, but on the other hand, it’s going to be a lot harder to find out what’s going on in SHIELD’s basement now that we can’t even enter the building anymore. Now that they dragged me out of there, I know there’s something down there that they don’t want anyone to see.

I can’t stop thinking about the woman I saw, either. Natasha and I are in a coffeeshop, taking advantage of the internet to try and find a roof over our heads for the night. I’m also using the time to dig up what I can about Isidora, but I can’t find anything. The information about her is probably deep within SHIELD’s files, and I can’t access that on a public coffeeshop connection. To everyone else but SHIELD, it seems like Isidora doesn’t exist. I can’t even find out why she was arrested in the first place, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

“I’ve found a shitty motel on the outskirts of the city that’ll give us a roof over our heads for the night,” Natasha says. “How much money do you have? I don’t have too much on me, and definitely not enough to afford that.”

“I don’t have that much, either.” I cringe, and we pool our money. There’s enough for one night, and maybe dinner, but this isn’t going to last long. I have an idea for how to fix this, but Natasha isn’t going to like it. I don’t think we have any other options, though.

“We could call Stark,” I offer, and Natasha wrinkles her nose.

“I don’t like Stark.”

“I know, Tash. But I don’t think he’d refuse us if we asked for help. And you’re friends with Pepper, aren’t you? Sort of?” I don’t really want to do this either, because I hate asking for help, although I don’t mind Tony all that much. “It’s either Stark, or some abandoned building, probably with rats. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not all that eager to sleep on a stone floor again.” That makes me think of Isidora, and I almost wish I hadn’t gone down to that basement.

“Fine,” Natasha says after a while, looking thoroughly unamused. “I guess if we’re part of the Avengers, we might as well hang out with them. But you’re making that call. I’m not talking to Stark, he’s obnoxious.”

I go ahead and make the call, and Stark says he’d be glad to have us, calling SHIELD a colorful variety of swear words. He tells me to give Tash a wink on his behalf, but I don’t pass it on, because Natasha already looks like she wants to knife the next person who pisses her off today. We’ve got housing and food covered now, and normally I’d be pretty relieved, and would push my other worries off until the next day. But I can’t stop thinking about the cages in SHIELD’s basement.

There’s something going on, and even though it’s stupidly risky, I’ll be damned if I don’t find out.

 


	2. Chapter 2

_SHIELD prisoner Isidora Volkova_

 

There was a man in the basement last night who I didn’t recognize. I’ve hallucinated before, and sometimes those hallucinations are people, but this is the first time one of them has spoken. And this is the first time I’ve hallucinated someone who wasn’t from my past. I’m kept here because I’m a danger to people, and not fully over my brainwashing. SHIELD is helping me the best they can, and I think I’m improving. I’m lucid most of the time, these days. I think that maybe, I’m close to a breakthrough, and they might let me out. I can’t remember how many years I’ve been hoping for that, but I think I’m close this time.

“There’s been a change of plans for today, Isidora,” one of my handlers says, speaking through the bars of my caged cell. I’m still waiting for the day when they’ll actually open that door and let me out for good. All of us are wondering that. “Our surveillance tapes indicate that a man was down here when he wasn’t supposed to be. Do you remember that?”

I nod before I realize what I’m doing. My instinct is to follow orders, and if I stop and think about something, it makes me uneasy. What my handler said makes me wonder what that man was doing down here, though. If he was caught on camera, then he definitely wasn’t a hallucination. I’m not a mutant like some of the people down here, and I can’t project any sort of image. I’m a wicked shot with darts, though. Always loved darts.

“That was former SHIELD agent Clint Barton. He’s a member of a rogue group called the Avengers, and part of the reason I’ve come down here to see you. He definitely wasn’t supposed to be down here, he’s dangerous,” my handler says, and I nod again. Part of me wonders, though - if he’s so dangerous, why isn’t he in a cage down here? That’s what this place is for, after all. Rehabilitating dangerous people until they’re safe to be around people again.

“What does that have to do with me? He didn’t hurt me or threaten me, and I didn’t see him harm or vandalize anything down here.” A few months ago, one of the other residents down here broke out, and she damaged a lot of the facility in her bid for escape. I don’t know what became of here, but we were all punished for the destruction, so I’m always wary of anyone harming this place. My memory is shaky about what exactly happened, but thinking about it is enough to --

Yeah, I’m not going to think about that anymore.

“SHIELD has actually been very pleased with your progress, Isidora. And since the Avengers is a growing threat, we want you to help us combat them, if they choose to threaten us. We can’t have innocents dying because of them.” It isn’t my handler speaking this time. I hear her before I see her, and when I do, it’s all I can do not to flinch. There is a woman who’s come up behind my handler, but she is hardly human. I’ve seen non-humans before; there are a bunch of them that are kept down here while SHIELD tries to correct their violent tendencies. But I get the feeling that the person I’m looking at was definitely human before, and isn’t an alien. Most of her body is metal and circuitry, and only one of her eyes and bits of her skin betray the fact that she was flesh at one point.

“My name is Spectrum, and I am one of SHIELD’s greatest successes. They are gathering six of us to join a team that will protect people, as well as SHIELD, from the Avengers. This is a chance for you to prove yourself, Isidora. If we are successful, our team may be allowed some degree of freedom.” Her voice has an electronic sound to it, and that would unnerve me, if it weren’t for the fact that I was caught up in marveling how advanced her technology was. I’m amazed at how far technology has come since before I came to this place. The Winter Soldier had a complex arm, but it was nothing like this. I realize I don’t actually know what year it is, because I’ve never felt the urge to ask. It must be in the 1950s by now, or even the 60s. They haven’t told me much of what’s going on outside of this place.

“Isidora, are you listening?” My handler’s voice brings me back to reality. “I’m terribly sorry, Spectrum. She is not entirely lucid yet, but she’s the best SHIELD has, on the brainwashing front.”

“I’m listening!” I feel a brief moment of panic, both from the thought that I might be punished for spacing out, and from wondering what year it is. “What year is it?” It comes out of my mouth before I can stop myself, and my handler frowns. He’s about to speak, but Spectrum speaks first.

“It’s 2013.” Spectrum looks concerned, but I hardly have time to dwell on that. I count in my head, and realize that I’ve been here for at least sixty years. That isn’t possible. My handler looks as panicked as I feel, and I’m lost for words. She has to be lying.

“I can’t have been here more than ten years. That’s all I remember.” My voice is faint, and I rifle through my memories, trying to compensate for the sixty years I’ve supposedly been here. I was a Black Widow, and SHIELD captured me, keeping me here ever since. I know that much. But I swear it’s only been ten years. Then again, how could I actually know? I was given the same serum as Natalia Romanova, Yelena Belova, and the other Black Widows. Even if it’s been sixty years, I probably haven’t aged. I feel like I’m freezing up, and I can’t think of how to respond to this.

“We’ve tried many times to get rid of your brainwashing for good, but over the years you have been here, something always triggers it again. When that happens, you lose your memory of the time you were unbrainwashed. I’m sorry, Isidora.” My handler has said the word sorry, but he hardly looks sympathetic. In fact, he looks frightened. “Do you think you can handle this? We haven’t told you in case it would make things worse, but you’re at the best point you’ve been for a very long time. And we need your help, as Spectrum says.”

If it’s true that I’ve been here for sixty years, my urge to get out is even stronger. I know I am being kept here for the safety of others, but if this goes on indefinitely, I don’t think I can handle it. This might be my only chance to get out, and in my desperation, I don’t care as much anymore if I’m dangerous. I just want to be out of this cage.

“I can handle this,” I say after I’ve taken a moment to regain my breath. It’s not true, of course, but I can’t think of anything else to do. The bars of the cage feel like they’re closing in around me now, moreso than ever before. “Please let me out.” Spectrum looks to my handler, who studies me for a moment. I’m well aware I’m a security risk, but they asked for my help, and if they don’t let me out now, I’m going to force my way out.

After what seems like forever, my handler scans his key card through the locks on my cage, and Spectrum offers me a hand, helping me step out. I realize it may have been the first time I’ve left this cage in sixty years, and I try not to think about that. I am Isidora Volkova, and to my knowledge, I am thirty-two years old. Even if it’s been sixty years since then.

“I’m glad you are willing to help us, Isidora. You’ll make a wonderful member of the team.”

I tell myself that yes, I will. As long as I can resist the urge to run, and disappear completely.


	3. Chapter 3

_Pissed Off Former SHIELD Agent Natasha Romanov_

 

If Tony Stark wasn’t here, this wouldn’t be so bad. I can never decide how I feel about that man. On one hand, it’s really gracious of him to help Clint and me out, but on the other hand, he’s been obnoxious for most of the time I’ve known him. I work better with him when we’re on missions. But even then, he still insists on blasting his goddamn classic rock in my ear. It was good to see Pepper, at least. She and I aren’t exactly friends, but it’s nice to have another woman around for once. She and Tony aren’t together anymore, apparently, and part of me is glad for her. Tony’s attractive, sure, but it must suck to deal with his shit all the time.

I guess the same could be said for Clint dealing with _my_ shit, but we aren’t technically a couple. I don’t know what the hell we are. Whatever we are, Stark put us in the same quarters, and I don’t have any problems being in the same bed as Clint. We do that a lot anyway. Nightmares are easier to deal with when there’s someone to hold onto.

I usually don’t sleep all that much, especially in an unfamiliar place, but Clint tends to sleep like a rock wherever he is. So I’m confused at around two in the morning, when he’s still awake. He’s facing away from me, and I don’t think his eyes are open, but his breathing’s not slow enough to be asleep, and his posture’s too tense. He tends to flop all over things when he’s actually sleeping. I find his hand and take it, because if he’s caught in the aftermath of a nightmare, that usually helps.

“Nat, ‘m all right,” Clint murmurs, but I keep a hold of his hand anyway.

“Why’re you awake, then? It’s two in the morning.”

“Thinking about stuff.”

“Talk to me, then.” Clint hasn’t said much about what he saw in the basement, and told me that they were keeping a bunch of prisoners down there. I’m getting the feeling there’s more to this than what he told me. It’s already pretty easy to infer that SHIELD keeps prisoners, given the nature of their work, so I don’t think that’s what they’re trying to hide. So I wait for him to speak. If he’s determined to keep this to himself, I can’t make him talk, but I’m the person he’s most likely to tell about something like this.

“Made eye contact with a prisoner and it freaked me out, that’s all. She told me her name.” Clint is still tense, so this must be bothering him more than it would bother me. I guess I’ve always been used to being around prisoners and cages. That thought is an unsettling one, so I slip closer to Clint, feeling a little unnerved now. He leans into my embrace, and I feel a little less jumpy. That’s one advantage of whatever we’ve got going on - we may not be able to communicate that well with words, but we can calm each other down without speaking, at least.

“What was her name, then?” I’ve read a lot of files in my time at SHIELD, so maybe this will ring a bell. I’m only mildly curious. It’s when Clint actually says the name that it gets my attention, because I’ve definitely heard it before.

“Iz...Isidora Volkova, I think.” Clint sounds like my warmth is lulling him to sleep, but now I want to keep him awake.

“I know that name. I’m positive I know that name.” I rifle through my mind, trying to remember any SHIELD files that I’ve read, but I can’t think of anything. Then it hits me, and when I realize why I know her, I feel sick. It’s a while before I feel able to speak again, because I’m trying to gather myself. After a while, Clint speaks again.

“Yeah? Where from?”

“She...she was another Black Widow, when I was in the Red Room.” If there’s one thing I really don’t like, it’s remembering anything from that particular time period. It’s easier to forget about it when no one from my past is around, but now, apparently, that’s changed. If anyone from my past had to come back, there’s only one particular person who I’d actually want to see again, but it’s definitely not Isidora.

Clint rolls over to face me, and his arm comes around me. That helps a little, but the idea of another Black Widow in close proximity still makes me feel uneasy. I can’t decide whether I’m uneasy about her presence, or the fact that SHIELD’s had her captive for god knows how long. Probably both.

“Did you know her well?” Clint asks, and I shake my head, briefly thanking the non-existent gods that it wasn’t Yelena or James or someone I actually know well. There’s a tiny part of my mind that does wish it had been James instead, but I tell myself that he’s been dead for years, and I shouldn’t think about that.

“She was just one of many. I remember her name because she was a poison specialist, and good with darts. Most of the rest of us were just trained with normal spy stuff, but she always liked her poisons.” I leave out the rest of it, because thinking about it makes me feel panicky. She was definitely one of their favorites, and I remember being threatened with the possibility of some of her non-lethal poisons more than once. And sometimes, they followed through on that threat.

“I can see why they arrested her, then,” Clint says, and I can’t read his expression all that well. He looks worried, but I’m not sure if he’s worried for me, or about the prisoners. “If she’s a Black Widow, then, she must have been in there for decades.” Hearing that chills me, and it makes me even more thankful that Clint decided to make a different call with me. I still wouldn’t have been in there as long as Isidora probably has been, but the idea of being captive again is enough to make me want to get up and bolt out of here. I haven’t been dealing all that well with the aftermath of New York, and this is really the last thing I needed. 

“Nat. You’re looking faraway again.” Clint’s voice brings me back to myself, and I look at him, trying to shove all thoughts of captivity and the Red Room out of my head. It doesn’t completely work, but I still feel better than I would if I was alone right now.

“Sorry. Not the greatest late-night topic.” That’s obviously an understatement, but I can’t make myself talk about it anymore. I’ll handle it better in the morning. Clint watches me, and seems to understand that from reading my expression. He leans forward and kisses me briefly, and I feel a weird mix of emotions that I can’t really identify, much less when I’m sleepy and distressed. Part of me wishes that we would actually talk about what we are together, but for me at least, that’s almost as difficult as talking about the Red Room. So that’s not going to happen anytime soon. In the meantime, though, I’m fine with kisses in the middle of the night.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” Clint murmurs, rolling back over on his other side. I shift forward and wrap my arms around him from the back, not particularly keen on just sleeping next to him tonight. I close my eyes and hope that maybe, my mind will give me a break tonight.

My mind decides to give me sleep tonight, so it is being a little kind, for once. But I dream of poison and cages, so by the time the morning comes, I wake up and find it hard to breathe.


	4. Chapter 4

_SHIELD Employee (???) Isidora Volkova_

 

This is the longest I’ve been out of my cage since I can remember coming here, and it feels good. I still feel incredibly jumpy and anxious, but it’s better than being completely trapped. I’ve met the rest of my team, but I’ve kept my distance from them so far. There’s one other human, an alien, an android, and two people who used to be human. We’re going to be a team called Aegis, and it feels strange to me to be part of a group again. I know that this is far from the KGB and all of the Black Widows, but I can’t shake my distrust of big organizations with acronyms for their names.

Most of the other members of the team seem just as nervous as I do, though, except for Spectrum and the android, whose name is Mamoru. But I’m pretty sure Mamoru is programmed not to be nervous. The other human’s codename is Checkmate, and she’s a super-genius. I don’t think she’s going to fight with us very much, and Spectrum said she’s mostly in charge of tactical maneuvers and battle orders. Then there’s Belenos, who’s apparently some sort of alien called a Majesdanian who can blast light everywhere when he’s not wearing his metal bracelet. I’m still not entirely okay with the idea that aliens exist in the first place, much less having to work with one, but I guess it’s 2013, and things are weirder now. The last member of the team is Wildfire, a woman who caught something called the Extremis virus. She scares the hell out of me, and I don’t talk to her very much either.

Part of me is still wondering why Clint Barton came down into our basement, and even though I’ve been told he’s an Avenger and someone I will be fighting against, I’m still curious about him. Spectrum tells me he got booted out of SHIELD shortly afterward, so I guess they must have gotten angry at him for that.

“Viper! Pay attention.” Spectrum’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. I’ve got a codename too - they call me Violet Viper, because they dressed me all up in purple, and my weapons are poison darts. I think it sounds kind of ridiculous, but at least it’s not as ridiculous as Captain America. It feels good to be armed again, too. I feel more like myself.

“We’ll be going after our first target today,” Spectrum says, and I have no idea who she’s talking about, since I wasn’t paying attention for the first few sentences she was saying. I guess it doesn’t matter, though, because I’ll find out soon enough. “He’s been sighted near the outskirts of New York, and it’s imperative that we get to him before the Avengers do. He is a criminal and belongs in prison.” I briefly note that the same could be said for all of us, but I say nothing about it. I’m still not sure I belong outside in public, but I’m not going to jeopardize it.

“The Avengers are looking for him, ma’am?” Mamoru asks, and Spectrum nods.

“He is known to have ties to two members of that team, and if they find him, they will undoubtedly make a judgment call clouded by emotion. He is very dangerous and cannot be allowed to run around freely with a team like that,” Spectrum says. “We’ll be leaving shortly. Use whatever means you have to, to immobilize him and capture him, but do not kill him. He could also be a useful aspect of our team, once we clear his mind of its brainwashing.”

As we prepare to leave, I wonder who exactly brainwashed our target. A lot of us who were kept in SHIELD’s basement have that sort of history, whether it was the KGB or some other organization. SHIELD has managed to break that brainwashing in most of us, though, and now we are loyal to them. I suppose it’s better that way. At least I’ll be protecting people now. I don’t ever want to return to what I was. SHIELD made sure I know every detail of what I did, to make sure I will never do it again.

We arrive in a run-down area on the outskirts of New York City, and start looking for our target. Spectrum said that he’s got brown hair and probably would be wearing long sleeves, to cover up his metal arm. That description sounds familiar, but I brush it off, because the only man I know who fits that description is long dead. Or at least, he’s still frozen. And knowing SHIELD, there’s plenty of strange people with metal implants running about. Just look at Spectrum.

I go off by myself into an alley, keeping a lookout for any man who fits that description. I wish they’d given me a uniform that wasn’t purple; I feel horribly conspicuous right now. I realize that no one’s watching me right now, and theoretically, I could run away and get all of this. As soon as I think that, though, a wave of paralyzing fear washes over me. It would be impossible for me to do that. They would find me, and I would be punished. I have to stay loyal to SHIELD to stay alive. There’s no way I can outrun an organization that powerful. I focus my mind on my mission and continue onward, but I feel shaky now, like someone is coming to get me.

I duck into an abandoned building, and that’s when I spot him. There’s a man curled around his knees in the corner, and it looks like he’s resting. He’s got shaggy dark brown hair, and is wearing a heavy jacket and gloves, so I can’t see what his arm looks like. He could be just a homeless vagrant, but my instinct is telling me that that’s not all of what he is. He hears my footsteps and looks up, and I freeze when I see his face.

Oh, no. Not _him_.

I look around for the others, feeling a jolt of panic, but they’re spread throughout the area, and I can’t bring myself to call any of them on my comm just yet. He’s staring right at me, and it’s clear that he recognizes me. Normally, my instinct would be to run. But I know this man, and when I look at him, my instinct is to obey orders.

“Volkova.” He stands up, looking just as shell-shocked as I feel. He knows my name, so that is definitely him. “That...that costume is ridiculous.” Despite myself, I let out a nervous laugh, even though I’m so unnerved right now that I could climb right up that wall. I’m glad my comm’s off for now. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m going to be punished for delaying this, but as long as he doesn’t get away, I’m okay, right? He doesn’t sound like himself, either. The Winter Soldier sounds harsher than that, more authoritarian. But if he were to give me a command, I don’t think I could resist the impulse to carry it out.

“How are you alive - “ I begin, but he cuts me off, and I see a blast of light shoot past us and hit the wall.

“Volkova, run!”

I feel something click in my brain, as if a switch has turned on. So I run, obeying my commander.

“Viper, what are you doing?” I hear Belenos shout from above me, but all my mind is able to think is that he is an enemy of the Soviets, and we are under attack. James takes my arm and runs with me, and I feel the touch of cold metal on my skin. We don’t run for long, though, and soon, the rest of the team has us surrounded. I have an overwhelming urge to kill all of them, and to get the hell out of here.

The last thing I see is Mamoru pointing his hands at me before I feel an incredible electric shock. My last thought doesn’t have any words, and it’s just a confused mess of terror and hatred. I hear James scream, and then everything goes black.

When I wake up again, I’m back in my cage. The events I remember seem like a horrible nightmare, and I don’t think I ever left this cage in the first place.


	5. Chapter 5

_Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist Tony Stark_

 

I’m pretty sure SHIELD hates me, but I’m on top of the world right now anyway. Mostly. Because seriously, fuck SHIELD. Fury’s okay, but I’m getting the feeling that he’s not the one who’s behind all this anti-Avengers bullshit. But it’s not too bad. Pepper and I still do stuff with the company - we’re more of business partners now than anything else - and Bruce works in the labs with me. Let me tell you, it’s fantastic to have another genius around. He just gets me, you know? It’s definitely worth spending more of my money on blueberries. And now Tash and Clint are here, so we’ve almost got the whole team living under our roof. If SHIELD is smart, they won’t mess with us. It’s not like we’re needed right now, anyway. I don’t really want another incident like the attack on New York, either. It’d take away all my sleep, and I don’t get much in the first place.

The only one who’s not here right now is Steve, who’s apparently determined to disappear and go be angsty by himself. I guess that’s his right, but since we’ve already got the rest of the team in Stark Tower while all this SHIELD bullcrap is going on, I’d breathe a little easier if he was around, too. I’ve been leaving him alone for a while, but it’s getting harder to fight the urge to see how he’s doing. I haven’t seen him since the attack.

Okay, yeah, not gonna think about the attack. Bad things happen when I do that.

Think about Steve. Gonna go visit Steve now, because he’s being reclusive like Natasha, and he’s definitely not Natasha. It would be really weird if he was Tash. I don’t think he’d look as good if he had bright red hair.

Steve’s got a small apartment in the middle of the city, so I drive over there, hoping that he’s home. There’s half of me that thinks he won’t answer the door, but I guess I can yell through the crack between the floor and the door until he gets annoyed enough to open the door and tell me to stop. Thankfully, I don’t have to do that. He comes to the door shortly after I knock, and looks surprised to see me. He also looks the worse for wear, and even though he’s always been kind of closed-off and sniffy, I find myself worrying over him anyway.

“Are you just here for a visit, or is something going on that I should know about?” Steve leads me inside, and we sit down on his sofa. God, this place is sparse. It could use a flat-screen TV, a hot tub, and definitely a taller roof. I bet Steve knocks his head on those doorframes a lot.

“Just wanted to see how you were doing, that’s all.”

Steve looks confused, and I guess I’ve given him every reason to be, since our last encounter involved a lot of arguing, and then everything going to shit, and after that, aliens. It’s not like I’ve made a big show of caring about him or anything. My hand clenches in the couch when I remember all that, and I’m pretty sure my heart shouldn’t be beating that fast.

“I’m fine, Tony,” Steve says, and even though I’m feeling just a tad bit panicky, I’m pretty sure he’s lying to me. But I guess I can’t blame him if he wants to keep his issues to himself. “Are _you_ all right? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah, fine.” I wave a hand, hoping that my brain will stop being a little shit and calm itself down. I look at Steve to try and concentrate on something else to calm myself down, but then my thoughts turn into an erratic see-saw between thinking about aliens and New York, and thinking about how Steve looks really fantastic in tight shirts like the one he’s wearing right now.

“Tony, breathe.” Steve’s caught onto the fact that I’m definitely not okay, whether I like it or not. God, this is embarrassing. It doesn’t exactly help to be told to breathe - trust me, I’m trying. Steve puts a hand on my shoulder, and I try to focus on the feeling of physical contact, since that’s something outside my head that isn’t involved with aliens. Steve doesn’t speak again after that, just keeping his hand there, and I gradually come back to myself, my breathing slowing down.

“Sorry about that.” I’m embarrassed now, because I feel like this makes me look really fucking weak. The only other person who knows how badly I’m dealing with New York is Pepper, and I’ve managed to keep my cool in front of everything else. Steve doesn’t look like he’s judging me, though. Thank God.

“Understandable,” he says after a while. “Given what we went through. But I’m fairly sure that’s not your reason for visiting me.” I nod, and try to keep my head together.

“I don’t know how much you’ve been at SHIELD, but they really don’t like us over there nowadays. Clint and Natasha got terminated a few days ago, and Clint told me that they view us as a threat now. I wanted to let you know, if you weren’t already aware.” That, and drag him to Stark Tower, but I’ll see how well that goes down. Steve frowns, and I’m getting the impression that he hasn’t taken a step inside SHIELD HQ since New York.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Does the rest of the team know?”

“Yeah, they all live in Stark Tower now. Pepper and Bruce already did, but Clint and Natasha couldn’t afford a place on the shitty paychecks SHIELD gave them, so I let them stay in the tower. If you ever need a different place, the tower’s always open for you, too.” I hesitate. “Admittedly, I’d feel a little better if the entire team lived in the same place, now that SHIELD’s being like this, but I understand if you’d rather not.” I can’t read Steve’s expression all that well - he’s looked vaguely pensive since I came in here, and that hasn’t changed much. But I wouldn’t blame him at all if he didn’t want to be anywhere near Stark Tower.

“Do you think it would be safer that way? I’d like to hope that SHIELD won’t take any action against us, but I’m guessing that’s a little naive.” At least that wasn’t an outright no.

“Like I said, I’d feel better if we were all under the same roof. There’s plenty of space in the tower, and you could keep entirely to yourself if you wanted.” I try not to think about the absurdity of the situation, because when it boils down to it, I am trying to persuade an iconic superhero who I sometimes stare at a little too long to come live in my house. Which is really fucking weird.

Steve looks around at his place, considering what I’ve said. It’s clear that he definitely isn’t happy about the whole SHIELD business, and I’m pretty sure there’s a tiny part of him that’s annoyed that SHIELD doesn’t find him super righteous and lawful good and all that crap. But maybe that’s just me reading too much into things.

“I’ll come and live in the tower for now, until all this blows over. I understand your concerns,” Steve says, and I feel a massive wave of relief. I hadn’t realized how much this was stressing me out until now. “Thanks for the offer, it’s really generous of you.”

“Glad to hear it. And no problem.” Now that we don’t have anything to discuss, it’s suddenly become awkward. I wish I had more to talk about with Steve, because I get the feeling that once you get past the aloofness, he isn’t so bad to be around. We’re silent for a while, and I can’t tell whether he’s feeling just as awkward as I am, because he seems like a guy who’s content to sit in silence, which is something I can’t really do that well.

“If you’re having trouble dealing with the aftermath of the attack, you don’t have to do it by yourself, you know,” Steve says after a while. That surprises me, and I look up.

“I’m fine, Steve. Really.” The moment the words are out of my mouth, I know Steve doesn’t believe me, and it’s evidenced by his expression, which is akin to “son, just don’t.”

“Tony, I’ve had a lot of experience dealing with this sort of stuff. Trying to deal with it by yourself doesn’t really work. I can’t force you to let me help you, but if you ever need someone, I’m around, all right?” Steve is being nice to me and I don’t know how to react. I don’t know how to handle it when Pepper does that, either. Or anyone, really, if they’re being genuine. Steve obviously knows what he’s talking about, since he’s been through a war and all, and I guess I never really thought about the fact that he would deal with flashbacks and shit. There’s a lot I’ve never really thought about in regard to Steve.

“Uh, thanks.” I’m a lot of things, but today, I am not the king of eloquence. “I...I might take you up on that sometime.” By which I mean never. Pepper dealing with my shit is one thing, since she’s used to it, but being vulnerable around Steve is another thing entirely. I guess he’s already seen me on the verge of a panic attack, but I’d rather not make that a habit.

Fuck, why is he looking at me like that? He looks concerned. He needs to stop looking concerned.

“Well, best of luck, either way. I know exactly how hard that can be.” Steve gives me a wry, sympathetic little smile, and I don’t know how to feel about it. I find myself smiling back, but it’s more like a grimace.

“I can have someone come by and pick up your stuff, if you’re ready to move into the tower,” I say, needing to change the subject. This is getting too personal for my liking, and it’s already freaking me out that Steve’s seen this much of me being vulnerable in the first place. Steve nods, and doesn’t press about the anxiety issue anymore.

“That’ll be great, thanks. I think I’m going to go pack, then.”

“And I think I’ll leave you to it.” I get up, and that’s when I realize he never removed his hand from my shoulder, because he gives me a pat on the shoulder as I move away from him.

“Chin up, soldier.” There’s that wry little smile again.

“Not a soldier.” This time I respond with a scowl, but Steve just lets out a faint laugh.

“I’ll see you in the tower, Stark.”


	6. Chapter 6

_James Idiot Barnes_

 

This isn’t the first time that I’ve seen Volkova in a cage, and now that it’s happening again, it’s really messing with my head. She’s in the cage beside mine, and I don’t think she even knows I’m there. She’s been staring straight ahead the whole time, and seems like she’s completely out of it. This brings back too many memories, and none of them are pleasant.

The only good thing about this is that it’s not Natalia in the cage. Which is horribly selfish of me, and she’s probably long dead by now, but that’s the only good thing about this for me. At least, wherever she is, Natalia is probably not in a cage, and probably not hurt. Isidora, on the other hand - well, that’s debatable. SHIELD has locked us both up, and I have half a mind to try and get the hell out of here, but I know I can’t just leave her in here. We never were really friends, but she went through the same things I did, and I’m not going to leave her to the mercy of SHIELD. If they’ve had her prisoner for a long time, god knows what they’ve done. Whatever they’ve done, she seems good and broken now.

They’ve left us alone now, and it’s the middle of the night. I know full well why they captured me, but not why they have a team like this in the first place. I wouldn’t think it would take an entire team to take me down. It seems like Isidora was part of that team, until I showed up. I wonder what the hell made her loyal to these people, and I have a feeling that they brainwashed her, just like the KGB did. The KGB’s version must have been more powerful, since it overrode whatever SHIELD did once she encountered me.

The cage they’ve got me in is pretty heavy duty, so I won’t be able to open it by myself. I have a vague plan, but it involves Isidora, and I’m not sure if I can get it to work. They threw her inside the cage as soon as they got back, and I don’t think they bothered to disarm her, aside from taking her gun away. And that’s a mistake on their part that I’m hoping to capitalize on. If I have to, I’ll keep using the Winter Soldier persona to make her do what I say for now, but it’s only to get us out of here. Once we’re out of here and somewhere safe, I’m going to do what I can to help her.

“Volkova.” My voice is a whisper, but it gets her attention. Apparently my voice saying a name activates something in her head, so I’ll use that while I can. “Do you still have darts?” For a moment, I think she’s too out of it to respond, but then her hand goes down to her waist, and she nods. She looks almost exactly the same as I remember, right down to the expression. I guess what the KGB burns into your head is really hard to erase.

“Next time someone comes to open either your door or mine to give us food, I want you to hit them with a dart that’ll knock them out. Then whoever’s door is open will steal their keys, and they’ll get the other person out. Does that sound like something you can do?” I ask, keeping my voice low. There’s no one around here right now, but if I’m overheard, I don’t think we’ll have another chance at getting out of here.

“I can follow orders,” Isidora says in a tone that is almost mechanical, and it chills me to hear. She goes silent after that, and we wait through the night for someone to come and open our doors. I don’t sleep that much, but when I do sleep, I dream of Natalia and Isidora’s poisons. I’m awoken by someone’s footsteps as they approach our cages, and I give Isidora a meaningful look, glad that she’s not asleep. She gives a tiny nod. The handler approaches my cage first, and works to open the lock. I stay in the back of the cage, not wanting to seem threatening.

There’s the whizzing sound of a tiny dart, and a few seconds later, the man has fallen to the floor, leaving the door unlocked. I scramble upward and make my way out, grabbing the key and freeing Isidora. Isidora doesn’t move, and still looks like she’s dead to the world.

“Volkova. Follow me.” My only choice is to bark orders at her again, and she springs upward, following me as I make my way out. The handler has a gun, and I take it, grabbing Isidora’s hand to lead her out of the basement before he wakes up. Isidora says nothing, and I can’t tell if she’s just being quiet so as not to blow our cover, or if she’s not capable of speaking her mind in my presence.

SHIELD is pretty quick to catch onto the fact that we’re escaping, and we have to make a break for it. We both start running, trying to find our way out, but this place is a maze. I don’t see anyone I recognize from the team that caught me yet, but it’s going to be a bitch to get out of here. Isidora lets go of my hand and starts throwing darts at people when we come across them, sending them tumbling to the floor. I’m in too much of a hurry to wonder whether those darts were fatal or not, and at this point in my life, I try to push things like that out of my mind.

I grab a jacket from one of the unconscious people, putting it on to mask my metal arm. That would be a dead giveaway, and I really don’t want to be caught again just as I get out of here. We find an exit, and even though it’s an emergency exit and sounds an alarm, we’re out of there, running like crazy until we can find someplace safe. It looks like we’re on the outskirts of New York, from what I see of the skyline. God, it’s been forever since I’ve seen this place. Isidora and I duck behind some buildings, having lost them for now. I’m pretty sure the team will be after us pretty soon, though - if we’re who they’re out to catch, at least. I still don’t know.

Isidora’s following me wordlessly, so I’m assuming she’s simply following her Winter Soldier’s orders, and she’s along for this ride. We go into a convenience store and grab some scissors and hair dye before word gets out about us on the news, and then we sneak into a mostly abandoned building, intent on turning unrecognizable. We both cut our hair fairly short, and Isidora dyes hers blonde. I can’t bring myself to dye my hair, which is pretty stupid, but Bucky was always brown-haired, and I’d feel even less like myself.

It doesn’t look like anyone is going to disturb us here, so we hunker down for the day, hoping that no one will find us here. Now that we’ve gotten out, I have no idea what to do, or where to run. It’ll be good to take a few hours just to think.

Isidora is still quiet, and it’s beginning to bother me. I can’t make her talk, because it would just be the same mechanical obedience voice, but I wish there was something I could do to break her out of it, now that we’re a little closer to being safe. I get the feeling that the more I talk, though, the worse I make things. She’s used to me being an authority figure, and I don’t think her conditioning will let her see me as anything else.

So I walk around the building instead, looking for something to do. I pick up a newspaper, and realize I haven’t looked at one in years. I’ve been on the run for so long that I haven’t kept track of what year it is, or what’s been going on in the outside world. It’s too much of a challenge just to survive, these days. I settle down with the newspaper in a corner, reading through it to see if there’s anything of interest. There’s one article that catches my eye, and when I look at it, I can’t believe what I’m reading.

It’s an article about a group called the Avengers, who apparently saved New York last year. That wouldn’t be extraordinary in itself - I’ve had plenty of experience with superheroes, and they’re not exactly rare these days. The article is talking about how they’ve recently become a rogue group, and are considered dangerous. It doesn’t say what they did to warrant that, but it piques my curiosity, so I read further. It’s the names that throw me for a loop. I don’t recognize most of them, but there are two that stand out - Steve Rogers, and Natasha Romanoff. I can’t believe what I’m reading. It can’t be the same people, after all these years. Both of them should be dead. But there are pictures in the article, and I see Steve holding his shield, the exact same one I remember. I wielded it once, a long time ago. I was never really worthy, though, and I don’t think I’ll ever be. It’s enough of a shock to see Steve, but when I turn the page, it feels like my heart stops for a moment.

Oh, God, it’s Natalia.

I’d know that face anywhere, and even if she’s going by a vaguely similar alias now, that has to be her. I can’t believe she’s alive, much less in the same city as me. My thoughts are reeling, and I stare at the newspaper, unable to tear my eyes away.

Now I know exactly what I need to do, and it’s stupidly dangerous. I guess that's why she always called me an idiot. 


	7. Chapter 7

_Blueberry Addict Bruce Banner_

I don’t really mind that SHIELD hates me. It might be a change for the rest of the group, but it’s definitely not a change for me. And they’re right, really. I _am_ dangerous. But as long as I get to work in Tony’s lab and be left alone, for the most part, I’ll be fine. I like these people, and there are two of them who don’t even walk on eggshells around me! Imagine that. Tony and Pepper have been great about the whole other guy thing, and I don’t get the feeling that they’re too scared of me. Admittedly, Pepper seems slightly more skittish than Tony, but I don’t talk to her as much. I wish I did, though. Pepper’s fantastic.

It’s mostly Natasha, Steve, and Clint who keep me at arm’s length. They’re getting better about it, but I’m not going to push them. I’m happiest when I’m in the lab and doing science, and that doesn’t really concern them. Tony and Pepper are my friends, and that’s enough for me for now. It’s certainly more than I deserve, but I’ll take it.

Usually it’s only Tony and Pepper who visit, so I’m surprised when Clint shows up in my lab. He looks kind of nervous, and I assume it’s because of me, but I’m willing to be proven wrong. He has a sheaf of papers in his hand, and he approaches me.

“Hey, Banner, do you have a free moment? I have something I want to ask you about,” Clint says, and I nod. He sets the papers down on the table, and I look at them. They’re a couple newspaper stories, and then what seems to be fragments of a SHIELD file.

“Go ahead.” I pick up the newspaper clipping, and it’s talking about a SHIELD breakout that apparently happened yesterday. When Clint starts to speak, I stop reading for the moment and look up at him.

“So I was wandering around in one of SHIELD’s basements and saw something I shouldn’t have seen, which is why Tash and I got fired. They’ve got people in cages down there, and I’m pretty sure they’re experiments. I was wondering if you’d help me decipher some of the science stuff that I found. And maybe help me hack into SHIELD’s database. I’m bringing it up because there was a SHIELD breakout yesterday, and the woman I saw down there broke out, along with some guy called the Winter Soldier. So I’m really curious.” From Clint’s expression, he looks like he’s really worried for this woman, and I wonder why he’s just concerned about her, and not anyone else.

“I can help you with the science, at least. But I can’t guarantee that I’ll hack into SHIELD for you. That’s pretty dangerous, and most everyone who lives here already doesn’t like me. I think it’d be pretty risky.” I pick up the woman’s SHIELD file anyway, though. There isn’t all that much, and it doesn’t even look like a proper file, once I look more closely at it. It’s basically bits and scraps, and there are a lot of parts that are missing. From what I can gather, it looks like she was a brainwashing experiment, and it makes me uneasy that SHIELD was doing stuff like this all the time, and we didn’t know. I guess it doesn’t surprise me that much, though.

“If we find her, I want to be able to help her. So that’s why I want to understand what they did to her,” Clint says, and I frown a bit.

“We’re not exactly looking for her, Bruce. It isn’t our business. And if we’re already on SHIELD’s watch list, helping two escaped SHIELD prisoners won’t make us look any better.” I can understand why he wants to help people, but I feel like at this point, it’s really risky to piss off SHIELD. God knows what they’d do if they decided we were a real threat, and actually tried to attack.

“If we’re already SHIELD’s enemies, it’s not like we can make it any better at this point. I’m pretty sure they like us even less than they’ve been letting on, and I’d rather help someone they fucked over than keep us in the favor of a dangerous, volatile organization who’d probably turn on us eventually anyway.” Clint seems determined to do this, and I don’t think I can argue with him well enough to make him change his mind. God, this is a stupid idea.

As I read through the file, though, I begin to see why he’s so passionate about this. For one, there are some notes scribbled on the file that say the woman in question is a Black Widow, which I imagine Natasha must have told him. And the more I read about what they were doing to her, the more wary I feel of SHIELD. I’m pretty sure that none of this is legal, and they didn’t want Clint to go blabbing to people.

I run a search query about Isidora Volkova and the Winter Soldier, and only one other thing comes up. A few days ago, the Winter Soldier was sighted in New York by himself, and apparently, Isidora was part of the team that subdued him. The article is kind of fuzzy about what happened, but it looks like Isidora ended up switching sides and escaping with him, for some reason. Clint is reading along with me, and I can tell that all he’s concerned about is the Isidora woman. But I’m concerned about something different - the fact that SHIELD has a new team to take down criminals. None of them look like SHIELD agents, either. They have different uniforms and everything.

“I think we have a bigger problem, Clint,” I say, and Clint looks up.

“Yeah?” Clint raises an eyebrow, and then reads the rest of the article, including the parts about the appearance of the other team. “...Oh. Damn.”

“I have the feeling that team’s not just there for crime-solving purposes. I don’t care if they’re replacing us and if we’re not affiliated with SHIELD anymore, but I don’t like the looks of this.” I do another quick search, looking for any other images of the people sighted on the team besides Isidora and the Winter Soldier. There’s nothing to be found. Whoever they are, SHIELD’s wiped their records from existence. That definitely doesn’t bode well. Clint’s silent for a while, and I’m not sure he’s listening.

“I’m going to find Volkova. And while I do, I’m going to keep my eyes out for any other members of that team,” Clint says, and I momentarily wish I didn’t hang around with such reckless people.

“That’s really risky, Clint.”

“Yeah, well, we’re sitting ducks in here, if SHIELD does mean to make a move against us. So I’d rather be prepared. You can let Steve and the others know about all of this. I’m going to find Natasha and head out.” Clint left the newspaper clippings on my desk, but took the bits of Isidora’s file back. “Thanks, Banner.”

“But I hardly did anything - “

“You cleared some things up for me. And hopefully, we both uncovered what might be a danger to the Avengers. I’ll see you later.” Clint is eager to leave, but for once, it’s not because he’s afraid the other guy will show up. God, I hope this is the right thing to do.

“See you, Clint.” I watch him as he goes, wishing that he would have just left me to my science. I don’t want to be involved in things like this, I just want to do research. But I’m getting the impression that I don’t really have a choice.


	8. Chapter 8

_Reluctant Stark Tower Resident Natasha Romanoff_

 

Clint and I are in the same room together, but neither of us are paying attention to the other. When Clint found out about the two people who broke out from SHIELD, he became immediately fixated on trying to find out all he could about Isidora, not particularly caring about the man who had escaped with her. I let him be, mostly because he wasn’t really paying attention to me anyway. And to be fair, I’m pretty damn distracted, too.

But I’m not distracted because of Isidora.

Clint doesn’t know why I’m more concerned with James Barnes than with Isidora Volkova, and I’m not about to tell him. Not yet, at least. And I doubt he’s noticed any change in me. I’m usually quiet, but this just made me even less talkative. I’m entirely wrapped up in my own thoughts, and while I understand why he wants to help Isidora, I can’t concentrate on it right now.

In all likelihood, especially if his programming is still active, James probably would like to kill me. After all, I’m a traitor to good old Mother Russia, and I imagine he wouldn’t like that very much. Or at least, the Winter Soldier wouldn’t. James might be different. All I’ve heard so far is that he escaped with Isidora, who seems to be under his command, and that they’re on the run. And if he’s commanding a Black Widow, it’s likely his conditioning is still active. I’m trying not to get my hopes up too much.

“Tash, are you even listening?”

Oh. Clint was talking. Shit.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought.” I shove thoughts of James out of my head, although it doesn’t work very well, and look up at Clint. Luckily, Clint’s used to me getting lost in thought, but now I feel bad, because of the particular subject of my thoughts.

“I was asking you if you want to help me find Isidora. Either way, I’m going to do it, but I’d feel safer if you were with me.” It’s hard to tell Clint’s tone, especially because my lingering feeling of guilt is probably coloring my perception. At least I can give him the answer he wants, even though it’s not for a reason that he would like.

“Of course I would.” I guess this is important to me for two reasons - having Clint’s back, and maybe finding James, even if he doesn’t remember me. I suppose I’ll see when it happens. Clint looks relieved, and for now, I’m off the hook. I tell myself to stop worrying, because this is likely going to be pretty irrelevant, especially if James wants to kill me.

Clint leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Tash.”

I still don’t know how I feel about any of this. I like what we’ve become, but I’m hesitant to put a label on it, and god knows that Clint is just as bad with this sort of thing as I am. Then again, none of my other feelings I’ve had for anyone have ever made any sense. I turn and kiss him on the lips, pulling him close. Sometimes it’s nice just to get lost in sensation, and when I kiss him, it’s easier to forget about James.

It seems like it’s just as easy for him to forget about his predicament with Isidora, too. He hasn’t put his laptop aside all night, but he does so now, for me. So I try to put my thoughts of James aside, too. I haven’t seen James in decades, and I can only assume he’s incredibly dangerous. Clint’s dangerous too, of course, but I’m at least fairly sure he wouldn’t harm me. He’s done too much for me to ever turn his back on me, unless he had a legitimate reason. I used to stay by his side out of the feeling that I needed to repay my debt. But now, I do it because I want to.

My memories of James are just that - memories. There’s no warmth that I can feel, and no physical presence beside me. But with Clint, there’s warmth, and some semblance of stability. There aren’t words to describe it, and I don’t think we’ll ever really talk about it, but for now, it’s enough. And I hope it’s enough for him, too.

We spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms, and it’s like it always is - we do this together for release, for a feeling of safety, and some vague attempt to express what we’re feeling. I always find I can tell him things better with gestures than with words. His skin against mine means safety for the night, and that I’m not alone. And I hope to hell that the way I touch him conveys even a fraction of how much I care for him, since I can’t vocalize it out loud. It’s always felt strange to me to have sex out of the context of work or a mission, and makes me feel far too vulnerable for my liking, but it’s worth it, for him. I don’t have to get any information out of him, and no one is going to get killed tonight. So it’s just a little easier to let myself try to relax.

Everything turns into sensation after that. I forget how to use words, and all I feel is the heat of him against me, around me, and inside me. When the pleasure finally tips over its threshold for us both, and my nerves are on fire, I hear the breathless sound of his voice, my name the only thing he can say. It’s the same way for me, and those are the last two words we say all night.

Isidora and James are entirely forgotten, and all I care about is Clint’s presence beside me as I drift off to sleep. His arms feel safe, and that’s all I want right now - safety and warmth. He doesn’t let go of me the rest of the night, and we quietly drift off to blackness in each other’s arms. For once, I am able to sleep soundly.

It doesn’t last, though. It never does. When I wake up, my grip on Clint is too tight, and I fear that I’ve already woken him up. My heart is beating way too quickly, as if someone has been chasing me, and I’ve just jolted myself out of a nightmare. I remember running for my life, knowing that if I stopped, someone was going to kill me.

And I remember that James was there, in the dream. But I cannot remember if I was running toward him, or away.


End file.
